


We'll Get it Right Eventually

by zoundsmann



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bigotry & Prejudice, Bisexual Male Character, Drama, Fluff and Angst, Genderfluid Character, Happy Ending, Highschool AU, M/M, Modern Era, hamilton gets into fights, i think, mentions of abuse, protective friends, this sounds much more extreme than it is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-06-10 15:19:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6962263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoundsmann/pseuds/zoundsmann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander has three run-ins with the same three individuals, one of whom he would most certainly like to get to know better. However, he finds that its hard to flirt when you're bleeding out on a sidewalk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Friday Night (pt.1)

**Author's Note:**

> I just started listening to the Hamilton soundtrack and WOW!!
> 
> Just some warnings:  
> This work will contain a scene in which a character is misgendered, some mild descriptions of violence throughout, including mentions of blood, suggestions/mentions of abuse, and topics similar to some seen in the musical. Nothing too graphic, but stay safe!
> 
> French translations (via google translate...)  
> -connard: shithead  
> -Merci: thank you  
> -Je suis un chien de garde bi- I'm a bi guard dog

     Alexander had always been told that trouble was simply attracted to him. He disagreed. Alexander was sure that he and trouble had a mutual attraction to each other, and for the most part it was a happy relationship.

     He was headed back to his foster family's apartment in a rush. It was already a half hour past his given curfew, and he didn't want to imagine the reaction he would receive when he walked through the door. Alex was tugging off his work hat and apron as he practically jogged down the sidewalk past the high school when he heard the rattle of a chainlink fence, followed by laughter. His pace slowed and eventually reversed as the familiar sound caught his attention.

     A group of kids, some of whom he recognized from his classes, had cornered a single individual, who stood with their back pressed to the fence. Alex glanced at his watch, despite the fact that his mind was already made up. He ran towards the group, rounding the corner and practically barking out,

     "Hey!" In less than a millisecond, four pairs of eyes were on Alexander. The first one that got over the surprise smirked and approached him,

     "Hey look guys, the french freak has a little gay guard dog! Aren't you that homeless orphan kid? Why don't you crawl back to whatever family got stuck with you this week?" Alex frowned at the mediocre insults, convincing himself that they were too poorly constructed to actually bother him,

     "I'd love to, Lee, but I'd much rather visit your family. I'm sure they'd appreciate a son who wasn't a massive disappointment, don't you think?" Alex heard the person pressed against the fence snort with laughter, though the others didn't seem so happy with his quip. Another boy approached, this one angrier than the last,

     "Listen runt, we'll gladly beat the ever-loving shit out of you tomorrow night, but we've got our hands full with this fucking idiot who doesn't know what he is,"

     "I know exactly what I am, Adams!" Spat the person against the fence, with a thick french accent, "And it sure as hell is not a "he" so watch your fucking mouth, connard!" The third kid, who Alex recognized as George Eacker, punched the french kid in the stomach, causing them to double over momentarily. As Adams turned to join the fray, Alex took the opportunity to ram into his back, tackling him to the ground. He could feel the rush of air leaving John's ribcage as he landed heavily on top of him, springing to his feet seconds after bringing him down.

     While Adams lay momentarily incapacitated, and Lee stared on in bewilderment, Alexander charged forward, landing a sloppy punch to Eacker's nose. He grimaced, and followed it with a much more precise knee to the crotch, effectively bringing Eacker down. He turned, panting, to face Lee, who simply put his hands up and backed against the wall. Alex nodded briefly before taking the french kid's hand and swiftly leading them away from the premises.

     Once he had put enough distance behind them, he glanced back at the person who's wrist he was holding. They were more than a full head taller than himself, with a curly ponytail that only added to their height. Alex suddenly felt self conscious, and let go of their hand.

     "I like your skirt," he said, the sentiment concise, but sincere. The french kid smiled,

     "Merci. And thank you for helping me. You did not have to--"

     "Yes I did. They were attacking you,"

     "They could have attacked you. I am sorry you had to listen to their insults. And that Lee called you my gay guard dog,"

     "They were highly unoriginal insults anyway. Besides, Lee was wrong,"

     "Oh?"

     "Yeah, I'm not a gay guard dog," he smirked back at the taller kid, "je suis un chien de garde bi," The french student let out a laugh and Alexander went to speak again just as a run down jeep came screeching to a stop at the curb in front of them.


	2. Friday Night (pt.2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some warnings:  
> This work will contain a scene in which a character is misgendered, some mild descriptions of violence throughout, including mentions of blood, suggestions/mentions of abuse, and topics similar to some seen in the musical. Nothing too graphic, but stay safe!
> 
> French Translations (via google translate...)  
> -Attendez: wait  
> -Il n'est pas celui que je texted a propos de: He isn't the one I texted about

     Hercules was out of the car first, charging forward and grabbing the little twerp who he assumed had been antagonizing Lafayette. Laf's text had only read "help. Near school." He and John knew that if Lafayette was asking for help, the situation must be serious, but honestly the kid that Mulligan was now wheeling back to punch didn't seem like someone that Laf couldn't handle.

     "Attendez!" Lafayette shouted, grabbing Herc's arm and placing a hand on John's chest to hold him back, "Il n'est pas celui que je texted à propos de!" Hercules paused, unsure of what Lafayette had said, but understanding their general demeanor as one that required attention.

     He lowered his fist, keeping his left hand clamped on the shirt collar of the kid,

     "Slow down, Laf, what's up?"

     "Is this the kid who was giving you a hard time?" John added.

     "No, no no no, this is the one that helped me!" Hercules immediately let his grip drop,

     "Oh fuck, sorry about that," he said, noticing that the color had drained out of the kid's face.

     "We tend to fight first and ask questions later when it comes to our own," John added with a tentative smile, gesturing to Lafayette. He reached a hand out to the other boy, "I'm John, and this is Hercules and Lafayette. Thanks for helping them out." John tried to take in his features under the dim street light as the boy grasped his hand.

     Just as soon as they touched, however, the hand was retracted,

     "Shit I...I have to go!" The shorter boy said, "Thank you for not killing me, and check on Lafayette, they took a pretty hard hit," he turned to John as if to say something else, but then seemed to rethink it and instead simply ran off in the other direction.

     "Wait we could--" the boy kept running despite Hercules' shout, "give...you a ride. Guess not, then."

     "Laf, did you get his name?" John asked, helping his friend into the car.

     "No, mon amis, I did not. He never mentioned it," John frowned and watched the form of the boy fade off down the dark road.


	3. Sunday (pt.1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some warnings:  
> This work will contain a scene in which a character is misgendered, some mild descriptions of violence throughout, including mentions of blood, suggestions/mentions of abuse, and topics similar to some seen in the musical. Nothing too graphic, but stay safe!

      _If poetry were a person_ , John thought to himself, taking in the sight of the young man before him, _it would be anyone but this kid_.

     And he was right. Alexander Hamilton was anything but poetry, but he was still a sight to behold. Words sprung from his mouth before his opponent could conclude a thought, and each one was filed down to a merciless edge. His hands gesticulated wildly, punctuating every argument with a flourish that mimicked the stroke of a pen, and his mouth contorted into a snarl as his passion grew too large to be contained by his diminutive body. Every second of it was captivating. The more he spoke, the more passersby became bystanders, pausing to catch more of the heated argument.

     Lafayette had been one of the many that became entangled in the emerging debate, grabbing their two companions by the arm and pulling them both to a halt,

     "Attendez," they'd pointed to the small group of protesters, who were surrounded by an audience, "Look at this!" John and Hercules abided, squinting into the crowd,

     "It's just a group of protesters, Laf, what'd you expect? They always gather at the pride parade," John had said, catching sight of the signs they were holding.        

     "Oui, but look at the kid to the right!" John looked again, this time seeing the young man, the kid who was not poetry, throwing arguments back against the protesters.

     "Laf, isn't that the kid that helped you out a few nights ago?" Hercules asked, a smile rising at the sound of the kid's arguments.

     "I believe so!" John swallowed, watching with more interest now as the argument continued,

     "Give me a reason then, if you're so sure you're right! I've been listing off evidence, proof, and all you've done is repeat the same mantra! There isn't a single thing in your book that explicitly condemns other genders and sexualities, so why should you condemn them?" The man that lead the protesters spat a string of slurs back at him, causing Hercules to surge forward, ready to jump in, but John and Lafayette quickly pulled him back. The boy calmly retorted,

     "Call me whatever you like, it doesn't change the fact that your arguments are as weak as your adherence to your faith. Aren't you supposed to love thy neighbor? Aren't you trying to steal our rights away when stealing is a sin? Aren't you--"

     His tirade was cut short by a swift punch to the face.

     Lafayette gasped and the three attempted to cut through the dissipating crowd to help the boy. John felt his stomach twisting in knots. He regretted holding Herc back, but it was too late to be thinking about that. He could no longer see the top of the boy's head through the crowd, but, upon scanning the sidewalk through the legs of onlookers, caught sight of him lying on the ground. He grabbed Lafayette's arm who in turn grabbed the arm of Hercules, and started steering them through the crowd until they reached the boy. John quickly knelt down, offering him a hand,

     "Hey man, you ok?"


	4. Sunday (pt.2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same warnings as previous chapters, thanks for reading!

     The sheer surprise of the hit had sent him to the ground, a fact that he would later feel embarrassed about. He was no boxer, but, when expecting it, he could put up a decent fight. Police officers lazily ushered the protesters away, not mentioning the assault, but at very least preventing any further attack as Alex lay on the sidewalk, blinking the fuzziness out of his vision. He let out a low groan, feeling the blood as it started to gush from his nose.

     "Hey man, you ok?" He heard the voice as if through a pane of glass, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. Before he had the chance to respond, a tissue was pressed under his nose. He glanced up and met the eyes of a boy about his age, whose face was sprinkled with freckles.

     "Yeah..." He mumbled, taking the tissue from the boy and sitting up, "that was embarrassing." The freckled boy laughed and Alex felt it resonate through his entire body.

     "It was not embarrassing at all! Impressive, actually! You really uh, 'told them off'. That is the expression, no?" Alex tore his eyes away from the boy to find the source of the heavily accented voice, only to find two more people standing over him.

     Suddenly the haze lifted and his embarrassment skyrocketed as he recognized the faces around him. He scrambled to his feet, frantically brushing himself off and grabbing his fallen backpack.

     "I should go," he stuttered, "thanks for the help," he turned to leave, only to have John grab his wrist,

     "Wait! You're the kid from the other night, right? The guy who helped Lafayette?" Alexander felt another surge of embarrassment. The last time he had run into them, he ended up sprinting off with no explanation. If he stayed now, eventually he would have to explain why he had been in such a rush the first time, and that meant explaining far more about his life than he was comfortable with.

     "Yes, that was me, and thank you for repaying the favor, but I have to go!" John let go of his wrist with a slight smile,

     "Running off to another ball, Cinderella? Can we at least know your name so we can finally thank you?" Alex reddened, but quickly composed himself,

     "The name is Alexander Hamilton," he said, grabbing John's hand and dropping into a mock bow, "and you must be prince charming?" He glanced up and gave a quick wink, the effects of which were probably dampened by the fact that he was holding a wad of bloody tissue under his nose.  

     Alex took a second to relish the blush that spread over John's face before cutting his way through the crowd and out of sight of the trio. He could have sworn he'd heard Hercules voice as he made his retreat,

     "Cool, now John's gonna be catatonic for a week."


	5. Monday (pt.1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same warnings as previous chapters, thanks for reading!

     When Alexander found himself reveling in the aftermath of a particularly bad situation, he often found it helpful to count backwards from ten until the residual pain went away.

     Ten.

     It started in the way that most of Alexander's altercations started; with Alex opening his mouth.

     He was working the late shift as usual, closing up the coffee shop at midnight. The shop held unusual hours, but the number of high school and college students that frequented the cafe made it worth the owner's while. Alex was grateful for the work. It allowed him to maximize his time, but also gave him enough flexibility that his school work didn't suffer, not to mention he had access to an unlimited amount of free coffee.

     He finished cleaning the counter as he mentally outlined his schedule for the next few months. He had much to do to complete his plan of receiving a full scholarship to a prestigious college, but the pressure simply turned to motivation as he imagined no longer living with a foster family. Alex grabbed his backpack, shoving his apron and hat inside before shouldering it and tugging out his ponytail. He grabbed his coffee cup from the counter, which he had made sure to top off before washing out the carafes, and headed out the door, locking up as he left.

     He made it approximately ten steps before stumbling over the uneven sidewalk and subsequently dropping his coffee.

     "Fuck!" He shouted, probably louder than necessary. He didn't notice the three figures across the street that were alerted by his shout.

     Alex crouched down to pick up the now empty cup, and was met by Adams, Lee, and Eacker when he stood back up. His eyes flickered between the three, all of whom were a minimum of four inches taller than himself. He felt uncomfortable with their proximity.

     "Look here boys, we've run into frenchie's gay dog again,"

     "Oh please, Adams, at least greet me with a less cliche--" the air rushed out of his lungs as he was shoved backwards against a lamppost.

     "Shut the fuck up, dog. Frenchie won't stop talking about what you did to us the other night, so you've gotta start spreading a different message,"

     "And what should I tell everyone, Adams? That I didn't knock you on your ass in a matter of seconds, or that I didn't completely humiliate your trio of inadequate antagonizers? That just sounds unbelievable if you ask me," Alex quickly had the smirk wiped off his face by Lee's fist, which effectively knocked him down. He leaned back against the lamppost, head swimming in a fog. Eacker grabbed a fistfull of his hair, pulling him up again,

     "Bark for us, dog," Alexander rolled his eyes, which only encouraged Eacker to tighten his grip, "Bark for us and we'll let you off easy,"

     "I never really liked taking the easy way out," he grimaced at the waver in his voice, but chalked it up to the painful tug against his scalp. He saw Adams pull out a pocket knife.

     Nine.

     By the time Adams, Lee, and Eacker had started to lose interest, Alex could hardly see straight. The three stood over him, probably laughing, though that wasn't really on his mind at the time.

     Alexander struggle to sit up, gripping at the base of the streetlight. He had tried to fight. Of course he had. Numbers, strength, and size had not discouraged him from fighting, but they had prevented him from winning. He heard the garbled sounds of threats from above him before the three boys trailed off, apparently having more pressing matters to attend to. Alex sat up and tried to clear his head.

     Eight.

     Most of the altercation blurred together into a confusing mass of struggling, pain, and shouting. Only a few key moments stood out as Alex tried to grab them from the clusterfuck of what had just happened. He remembered a few specific insults about the usual topics; being queer, being an immigrant, being an orphan, et cetera. He remembered a handful of his hair being cut off. He remembered a pocketknife being slowly dragged along his abdomen as Adams' hand clamped on his throat.

     Oh. Right.

     Alex glanced down at the red stain growing through his shirt and cursed. He clamped an arm over the gash, which he hoped wasn't deep, and struggled to his feet. He searched for his backpack, and with it, his cell phone, but only made it a few steps before his vision started to darken and his ears rang.

     Seven.

     He saw three figures a ways down the street, and hoped that it wasn't Adams and his accomplices coming back for more,

     "Hey," he called, as loudly as he could, "hey I'm bleeding..." part of his brain knew that this wasn't the most effective way to ask for help, in fact, under normal circumstances he would have been downright appalled by his inept communiction, but he couldn't bring himself to think of anything better. Instead, he leaned heavily against the streetlight and waited.

     Six.


	6. Monday (pt.2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same warnings as previous chapters, thanks for reading!
> 
> French translations (via Google translate):  
> Petit lion- Little lion  
> Diable pelucheux- fluffy devil

     "Hey...hey I'm bleeding..." The voice was slurred, and the three glanced at each other in a moment of confusion,

     "You're wha--oh shit!" John ran forward as the figure ahead of them stumbled and fell to their knees. Hercules and Lafayette followed close behind as John knelt beside the person, who was now doubled over, clutching their somach, "What happened, how can we help?" The person lifted their head and John's eyes widened, "Alexander," he said under his breath. He brushed the hair out of the other boy's face, "Alexander, it's John! Remember, we saw you at the parade yesterday?"

     He watched a mix of recognition and relief wash over Alex as he nodded and mumbled,

     "'Course I remember you, prince charming. Can I trouble you for help again? I've ruined my shirt."

     John was about to ask him what he meant, but Alexander was already moving his arm to reveal the blood soaking through his torn shirt. He swallowed hard,

     "Herc, Laf, I'm gonna need some help with this one." He could hear his friends move closer, but couldn't tear his eyes from the slowly spreading stain.

     "Uh...I think we need to take him to a hospital, John,"

     "We do not need a hospital, can you not sew?"

     "Yeah, Laf. I can sew clothes. Not fucking battle wounds."

     "I do not see the difference. If you can make the Schuylers three ballgowns for the prom, you can sew a little bit of skin together!"

     "Aright, listen--"

     "We don't have time to debate right now," John cut in, "We need to move fast." Hercules and Lafayette nodded simultaneously.

     "Can you walk, petit lion?" Alex huffed out a laugh,

     "Of course..." He pushed himself upwards, but quickly stumbled back, directly into John. John steadied him, supporting most of his weight,

     "Take it easy, Alexander. Herc, I don't think I can carry him alone, can I get some help?" Hercules quickly scooped Alex up, much to the surprise of the smaller boy, who mumbled in protest. Hercules smirked,

     "Hey Laf, I think that lion thing is gonna stick. This kid weights less than my cat,"

     "Maybe your cat is just too fat," Alex slurred, as Lafayette lead them down the street, "I'm going to get blood on your shirt. You should let me walk."

     "I've seen you debate, and that wasn't your best argument. You're not waking. And don't talk about Cashmere, she's all fluff, man."

     "He will defend that diable pelucheux with his life, Alexander, do not listen to him. Now, which hospital is closest?"

     "No! No, I can't go to a hospital, Mr. Frederick will kill me," The trio glanced at Alex in confusion, but John quickly cut in,

     "Ok, we'll bring you to Martha," he glanced at Lafayette for approval. They nodded quickly,

     "Yes, Martha will know what to do. Martha and George Washington are my guardians, Alex. At this point, they are basically my parents, they will not mind, and they will know how to help you. Will that be ok?" Alex nodded hesitantly, "Good, off to my house then!" They shouldered Alexander's bag and quickly lead the others down the road. John nervously skittered along beside Hercules, pulling a tissue from his pocket and dabbing blood off of Alexander's face,

     "So do you constantly get into this much trouble, or is this just a busy week for you?" He saw a smile spread across the other boy's face,

     "Is there an 'all of the above' option?"

     "Yes,"

     "Then I choose that,"

     "Good," Hercules added, "We're always looking to add another trouble-maker to the mix."


	7. Monday (pt.3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same warnings as previous chapters, thanks for reading!

     Five.

     Altogether, the walk to the Washington's apartment took about five minutes, which feels much longer when you're trying to hold your skin together. Alex was sure that not a single part of him was left unbruised and, despite Hercules' best efforts not to jostle him, the general sensation he felt was one of being kicked repeatedly by a horse. John fussed over him as they walked, and Lafayette kept up a jovial stream of chatter to distract him from the situation. Having the trio so seamlessly unfold around him almost made the pain worth it. Strange as it seemed, he felt more at home with them after having only exchanging a handful of sentences than he had felt at any point since he had come to the country. He pushed this thought down, sure that it was not an acceptable way to feel. Then John tucked a stray bit of hair behind his ear and the feelings flooded back.

     By the time Lafayette had unlocked the door the the apartment, Alex was sure he was going to vomit all over the pristine white carpets that it sported. He had resigned to let his head lull against Hercules' chest, which the other boy didn't seem to mind, with his eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to keep the room from spinning. He hardly noticed when Lafayette greeted the woman walked into the room,

     "Bonsoir, Martha!"

     "Oh hello Gilbert! Goodness it's late, I insist that," her invitation for John and Hercules to stay the night was cut short as the noticed the boy in Hercules' arms, "Oh my, what's happened now?" She rushed over, taking a quick assessment of Alexander's condition.

     "Martha, this is Alexander. He needs stitches and did not want to go to the hospital," The questions that were clearly forming in her mind faded away as she snapped into action,

     "Alright, Gilbert, grab the peroxide and towels from the cabinet. I'll go get my bag, you're lucky I bring my work home with me," She added as a side-note, "Hercules, John, bring him to the guest room and make sure he's comfortable. I'll be in in just a moment," With that, the room split as everyone went to perform their designated task.

     Once in the guest room, Alex took in the full weight of the situation. He was asking a complete stranger's mother to fix him up with nothing to offer in return. He was taking up space in their very expensive apartment, getting blood on their very expensive sheets, and generally being a burden to everyone involved. He sat up, panic setting into his stomach,

     "I have to go," he grunted in pain as he tried to get off the bed, only to have John and Hercules gently push him back down.

     Four.

     "Alex, you're not going anywhere in your condition, you need stitches, painkillers, and rest," John once again brushed the hair out of Alexander's face, pausing as he noticed a handful that was much shorter, "What happened here?"

     "They cut a chunk of my hair off, said I'd look more 'normal' with short hair," Alex said. John frowned, shoulders tense. Alex felt a twinge of fear before realizing that the anger wasn't directed at him,

     "We're going to make sure they never go near you again," Hercules nodded in agreement, and Alexander looked on in confusion. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted as Martha Washington and Lafayette entered,

     "Alright, Alexander, let's have a look. Gilbert was saying that you have a cut across your stomach, may I lift up your shirt and have a look?" Her tone was gentle, and Lafayette nodded in encouragement, so Alex decided to trust her,

     "Yes ma'am," Martha smiled and carefully tugged his shirt up past his stomach. Her face stayed neutral as she examined the gash,

     "You can call me Martha if you'd like. May I clean off some of this blood?" Alex nodded,

     "Yes ma'am," The damp cloth came with a firm, but not unpleasant pressure, and a cool flush of water. Alex shivered.

     "Alright, it doesn't look too deep, but you will need stitches to allow it to heal properly. Gilbert was adamant that you did not want to go to a hospital, though they weren't sure why. Would you reconsider?" He felt a lump forming in his throat, which he quickly overcame.

     Three.

     "I-I'm sorry ma'am, I'd really prefer not to go," In his mind he berated himself for stuttering, keeping his eyes trained on his bunched up shirt and avoiding Mrs. Washington at all costs. To his relief, she responded quickly,

     "That's fine, Alexander, no need to be nervous. I can stitch you up, but it's going to hurt. Are you sure?" He nodded, "Okay, I'll go get some things and then we'll get started," As she left the room, Lafayette spoke up,

     "Would you like some whiskey, petit lion?" It took Alex a moment to respond to the nickname, but he huffed out a laugh,

     "That would be nice,"

     "Laf, there's no way in hell Martha would allow that and you know it. You'd be better off getting him a wooden spoon to bite into," Hercules joked, throwing a playful wink at Alex.

     "Nah, I think a pillow over the face is our best option. Y'know, muffle the screams!" John added dramatically, tossing a decorative pillow across the bed at Hercules. Alex laughed, finding comfort in the casual conversation. When Martha entered again, he felt that his mood was lighter, despite the throbbing bruises that were blossoming up on his skin.

     "Are you ready, Alexander? I'm going to begin by disinfecting the cut, and then I'll start on the stitches. Try to stay calm, and if you need me to stop at any point, just let me know, okay?"

     "Yes ma'am," was his only response, though Martha seemed to be expecting more. She offered a smile before setting to work.

     Two.

     The disinfectant prickled under his skin. It was a sensation that he was familiar with, as cleaning a wound was about as far as his self-care regimen extended. The sting of the needle, however, came as a surprise.

     He bit into his split lip, tasting the blood that pooled in his mouth and attempting to focus on the flavor in order to distract himself. His hands clenched at the plush comforter of the guest bed, seeking out a sensation other than that of the needle going through his skin. He found this as a warm weight rested on top of his left hand. He glanced up and met John's eyes. John looked pale, nervous, even, as he watched Martha work, not taking his eyes off of her quick hands. Alex shifted his own hand, allowing John's to drop into his palm so that he could wrap his fingers around it.

     "Do you need a break, Alexander? It's alright if you do, just let me know,"

     "No ma'am," he responded instantly, " I'm fine, you can keep going," Martha hesitated momentarily before continuing. Alex's grip on Johns hand tightened. He heard Lafayette whisper something to Hercules, but couldn't quite make out what. Minutes passed slowly as his skin was pulled together, and he felt all too much like a child's toy being repaired, with the imminent threat of being thrown back to the careless child soon after.

     There was a quick snip of scissors and Martha spoke again,

     "Alright Alexander, now that that's taken care of, I'm going to get you something to eat and we'll take a look at the rest of your injuries," Alex furrowed his eyebrows,

     "I'm sorry ma'am, but shouldn't I be going? I've already intruded enough, not to mention causing trouble for you, getting blood on your bedsheets, taking up your time--"

     "Alexander, you haven't caused any trouble, dear! I insist that you stay the night, at the very least. You are in no condition to go anywhere, and as I mentioned, I'd like to have a look at the rest of your injuries. Now get some rest and I'll be back with some food," He opened his mouth to protest, but Martha was already leaving the room. Alex let his head fall back onto the overstuffed pile of pillows,

     "I can't stay the night. I have to go, Lafayette. I really have to get back," He stopped before saying 'home'. The Frederick household was not home. His hand tapped nervously, tracing circles on what he had forgotten was John's hand.

     "Alexander--"

     "No. I mean it, I...I can't stay. I'm sorry," John cut in suddenly, face red and staring down at his hand,

     "Alex, I know we hardly know you, but we're worried about you and want to make sure you're alright," Alex felt an unusual loss for words. He was confused, yet touched by the sentiment, and he couldn't explain his insistence on leaving without revealing more than he wanted to. He simply nodded and mumbled,

     "Thank you," A few moments of relative silence passed before the three drummed up a quiet conversation. Alex let his eyes drift shut as he took in the exchange, finally finding relaxation. The throbbing of his injuries became muddled as he drifted off, feeling safe in the presence of these strangers.

     One.


	8. Monday, Technically Tuesday (pt.4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a longer chapter this time, but it may be a little while before I am able to post the next one. Same warnings apply, thanks for reading!  
> _________________________________________________________  
> French translations (via Google translate):  
> Hercules Mulligan , comment osez-vous allez raconter à alexander mes écrase ! vous êtes insupportable parfois , d'ailleurs, vous savez que je suis épris de toi!-  
>  Hercules Mulligan, how dare you go around telling alexander about my crushes! you are insufferable sometimes, besides, you know I'm infatuated with you!
> 
> S'il vous plaît dites-moi que vous n'êtes pas couramment le français-  
> Please tell me you aren't fluent in french
> 
> Je pourrais vous dire cela, mais ce ne serait pas vrai-  
> I could tell you that, but it wouldn't be true
> 
> ___________________________________________________________

     The first thing he felt was the warm weight pressing against his arm. Alex groaned and blinked the dreariness from his eyes, squinting into the darkened room. His eyes rested on a mass of curls splayed over his left arm, which he quickly identified as John.

     "John...? Are you asleep?" He spoke quietly, hoping not to disturb him if he was in fact asleep, however the boy quickly shot up at the sound of his voice.

     "Wha-? Alex? Are you awake?" He slurred, hand still trapped underneath Alexander's. Alex reddened, pulling his hand away,

     "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have fallen asleep with you stuck there," John simply smiled,

     "Don't worry about it. I wanted to be here when you woke up anyway. Martha wanted me to make sure you ate something, since you drifted off before she was able to bring you anything earlier. I know it's late, but you need to eat something, ok?" Alex nodded and thanked him as he left, settling back into the bed. He felt tension building in his chest as anxiety crept forward. He glanced at the clock, proudly displaying that it was 1am, and with each click of the hand, Alex felt his throat squeeze closed.

     Hearing the door creak open was almost a relief, until he realized that the man entering the room was not someone that he recognized. Alex immediately sat up, wincing at the pull of his stitches.

     "Whoa, whoa, be careful now, don't rip your stitches or--"

     "Who are you," Alex clenched the bedsheets to keep his hands from shaking. The man looked genuinely surprised,

     "Oh, yes, I apologize for startling you. I'm Mr. Washington. You can call me George if you like. When I got home Martha told me about you, so I thought I would come and check on you,"

     "George...?" He huffed out, the name sticking to his throat. George smiled,

     "Yes, and I believe Martha said you were Alexander, is that right?"

     Alex felt the last bit of his confident exterior drain away as he began spewing apologies,

     "I'm sorry sir, please understand, I was against this whole affair! When Lafayette and the others found me I asked them not to take me to a hospital, so they said that they would bring me here, but I hadn't realized they would have me to stay once the stitches were done! When Mrs. Washington suggested I stay I didn't want to anger her by disobeying, but I swear that I made a point of insisting on leaving, however she seemed adamant that I rest. When I finally agreed, I hadn't planned on falling asleep, but I stupidly did, and now I fully understand that I've overstayed the welcome that was very generously outstretched to me. I know that all sounds like an elaborate excuse, but honestly, I'm not asking for you to excuse me, I simply want to apologize for being such a bother and for wasting so much of your family's time." He shifted to the edge of the bed and stood, causing a rush of dizziness to run through him. He quickly steadied himself as George stood, shocked, in the doorway.

     "Slow down, slow down, son. I'm not angry with you. Please, sit down," Alex hesitated between siting and leaving, settling on simply standing frozen in place. George stepped over to the bed, and it took all that Alex had not to make a run for the door, "Son--"

     "I'm not--I'm an orphan," he spit out. He wanted to tell the man off. He wanted to scream at him that he had no right to call him son. That no one had that right, and he hated anyone who thought they did. Instead he felt a prickle of tears, which he bit back, and presented the man, with the name he despised, with an obscure detail about his life.

     "I'm very sorry to hear that, Alexander," George said, sitting on the edge of the bed, "I want to apologize for barging in on you. I should have come in with Martha and made sure you were alright with it first," Alex stood dumbfounded,

     "Wait...what did you just..." His voice trailed off for a moment, but to his relief, George patiently waited for him to finish his thought, "Why did you just apologize to me?" He mumbled.

     "Well it seemed as if I startled you, and I regret doing so. I hope you accept my apology," Alex said nothing, "So how are you feeling, Alexander? From what I've heard you've been through quite a lot today,"

     "I'm sorry. I know I've been a bother,"

     "On the contrary. Gilbert and the boys seem to be very excited about you. Gilbert was telling me that you helped them out a few nights ago, is that true?"

     "Yes sir,"

     "Well then I want to thank you for that. Gilbert means a lot to Martha and I, and I always regret when we're unable to protect them. Thank you for stepping up, it was very brave of you to do so," he carefully extended a hand, which Alex shook hesitantly.

     "It wasn't brave. I was doing what was right,"

     "Sometimes that's the bravest thing you can do," The door swung open once more, producing John with a tray of food, with Lafayette and Hercules in tow.

     "Oh, hi George. I just brought some food for Alex," he raised an eyebrow as he noticed that Alexander was out of bed, "Is everything alright?" Alex nodded.

     "Well, I'll leave you four alone. Alexander, don't let these troublemakers keep you up, you need rest, and god knows you won't get much with them around," George smirked and their protests and took his leave. John sat the tray down on a side table and lead Alex back to the bed,

     "Lafayette heated up some soup, and Herc made you a sandwich," Hercules crossed his arms, clearing his throat loudly. John rolled his eyes, "Sorry, what I meant was that our resident badass and chef Hercules Mulligan prepared the 'World's Greatest Fucking Sandwich' for you, our esteemed guest, Mister Alexander 'little lion' Hamilton. Is that better, Herc? Did I stick to your script?"

     "I would've liked some more enthusiasm but I guess you did alright,"

     "He is not 'little lion', he is 'petit lion', I will not accept your english butchering the perfect nickname,"

     "Alright, alright, I'll work on it," John smiled at Alex, "So are you hungry? I mean I know it's one in the morning, but still,"

     "I'm starving," he said, and he meant it. He quickly grabbed the bowl and downed the soup within minutes, relishing the slight burn of it as it slid over his tongue. As he exchanged the bowl for the plate, he spoke up, "Mr. Washington came in to check on me," there was confusion in his voice, giving the statement qualities of a question.

     "Yes, George was very excited to meet you, mon amis! I told him all about how you saved me from those idiots the other night, he was very impressed!"

     "So he just genuinely wanted to know if I was feeling well?" Lafayette raised an eyebrow in confusion,

     "Of course petit lion, he is worried about you, we all are,"

     "And we all wanna kill those assholes that attacked you," Hercules added, watching with anticipation as Alex took a bite of the sandwich. Alex was about to thank them again, but any sense of intelligent conversation was thrown out once he tasted what he was eating,

     "Oh my god," Alex mumbled through a mouthful of food, "This is...probably the best thing I've tasted in half a decade," he scarfed down more as Hercules high-fived Lafayette. John smirked,

     "Yeah, yeah, Herc can cook, but he can't bake for shit. Just wait until you've tried my cupcakes, you haven't lived until you've tasted those,"

     "I want to argue but he is right. His homemade buttercream is to die for, and this boy can make a mean crembrulle," Lafayette added. Hercules ignored both of them and started listing off the process and ingredients involved in making the World's Greatest Fucking Sandwich™. Alex simply took in the babble of the trio as he continued eating. In the back of his mind, he tried to process his earlier interaction with George Washington, attempting to understand his apparent kindness and sympathy.

     He glanced up at John as the boy excitedly described various desserts, some of which Alex had never heard of before. He wanted to listen to this living recipe book for hours, however, as it tended to do with Alex, the luck he'd been given quickly diminished.

     Everyone in the apartment was surprised to hear the knock on the door. Not many visitors came by at one in the morning, so the Washington's were naturally cautious when opening the door. Alexander sat up at the sound of the door opening a room away, grabbing onto John's sleeve,

     "I don't want to go. I changed my mind,"

     "What?" John glanced at the others in confusion, "Alex, what are you talking about? You don't have to go!" Alexander's grip on his arm tightened,

     "I think that's Mr. Frederick. And if it is him then I'm not going to have much of a choice. I just wanted to let you three know that I don't want to leave. Thank you for helping me," Lafayette gently rubbed his shoulder,

     "Petit lion, we do not want you to go either, but we will see you at school tomorrow, yes?" Alex nodded as the door to the guest room opened. George Washington entered swiftly, closing the door behind him,

     "Alexander, there's a man here, he says his name is George Frederick and that he's your father. Do you know him?" Alex let go of John's arm and stood,

     "Yes sir. He's not my father, he's my foster guardian. I'm sorry, I didn't know he was coming,"

     "That's alright, Alexander. Do you want to go with him?" He met Alexander's eyes steadily, and Alex felt a swell of trust for the man that he feared less than twenty minutes ago,

     "No sir, I don't. But I should," George's face remained calm, but Alex could see the slight tug of his eyebrow, the pull of his lip. He was confused by the statement.

     "You're welcome to stay the night, Alexander,"

     "Thank you sir, but I need to go," he reached for his backpack, but Hercules lifted it instead,

     "Dude, you just got stitches. You shouldn't be lifting this," Alex allowed a smile as they all moved to the other room. John and Lafayette stood by his side, Hercules walked directly in front of him, and George lead the way. He was protected.

     As they entered the sitting room of the, frankly enormous, apartment, Alex saw Martha sitting on a couch across from George Frederick. His stomach dropped, and he had to convince himself not turn around and sprint out of the room. Instead, he stepped forward, taking courage from the three friends that stood by him. He played with the word in his mind for a moment. Friends seemed to fit so naturally, but is that what they were? They had only met a handful of times, and only known each other for an hour. What there a minimum time requirement for friendship?

     "Alex, do you have any idea what time it is?" Alex grit his teeth at the sound of the voice that tore him away from happier thoughts. George Frederick was sitting, or, more accurately, was draped on the couch in the center of the room. The sight of him gave the turmoil within Alex a spark, simultaneously igniting defiant anger and paralyzing fear, two emotions that he felt himself suspended between on a daily basis. He mustered his confidence, and spoke,

     "Yes sir, I do,"

     "It is after your curfew, isn't it?" His tone was that of someone explaining morality to a small child; slow, painstakingly deliberate, and patronizing in a way that Alex couldn't stand.

     "Yes sir, it is,"

     "And you are being a bother to these nice people whose home you are in, are you not?"

     "Yes sir, I am,"

     "Oh, he's been no bother at all, I assure you," Martha cut in. Her tone was as gentle as it had been when she had sewn up Alexander's cut, but her eyes were icy and on edge, "In fact, he's been a perfect gentleman. As I mentioned, he was badly hurt when Lafayette and their friends found him, and I was more than happy to patch him up," Mr. Frederick's gaze broke away from Alex as he turned to Martha with a bright smile,

     "Oh yes, thank you again for doing so, Martha! Alexander is always getting himself into trouble though, he's such an airhead sometimes, honestly, he probably did it to himself!" he laughed, expecting Martha to laugh along with him, but receiving no such response. John glanced at Alex, giving him a questioning look, but Alex shook his head slightly. He didn't want Mr. Frederick to know the real reasoning behind his injuries. Mr. Washington cut in,

     "Well George, since you came all this way, how about a cup of coffee before you go?" His calm tone fell over the room as a command, rather than a question. It was subtle enough to pass by unnoticed, but certainly present in the spaces between words. Mr. Frederick nodded,

     "Yes, that sounds lovely! I'll have tea though, if it isn't too much trouble,"

     "No trouble at all. Would you mind giving me a hand in the kitchen?" Mr. Frederick turned to Alex with a harsh look,

     "Alex, go help Mr. Washington,"

     "Yes sir," Alex nodded, following after a very tense Washington. To his relief, John, Hercules, and Lafayette followed as well.

     "Does he always treat you like this, Alexander?" George asked, once they were all safely out of earshot. Alex quietly took a teapot from the counter and filled it with water,

     "I'm sorry he's here, sir," he mumbled, blatantly avoiding the question posed to him. To his relief, George played along and dropped the subject,

     "That's alright, Alex,"

     "No, it's not!" John cut in, "Alex he was treating you like shit!"

     "Language, John,"

     "Sorry Mr. Washington," he quickly added before continuing, "But Alex, he shouldn't talk to you like that, you didn't do anything wrong! And he didn't even ask how you got hurt! And how the hell did he know you were here?" John took the kettle from Alex, leading him to a stool at the kitchen counter before placing the kettle on the stove.

     "John's right, that's pretty weird," Hercules added.

     "He was probably tracking my phone. Anyway, I shouldn't have come here, he's right to be angry at me for staying out this late," Out of the corner of his eye, Alex could see John turn, preparing to say something else, but George placed a hand on his shoulder and calmed him. Several moments of silence passed as they waited for the water to boil. Lafayette made eye contact with John and nodded towards Alex, who was staring intensely at the tiled floor, fingers skittering nervously over each other. John quickly ripped a paper towel off of the roll by the sink and ran it under some cool water, approaching Alex and gently clearing his throat to get his attention. Alexander's head snapped up, and John took a step back,

     "Sorry, we just...we never got the blood off of your face. Do you mind if I...?"

     "I don't mind," John nodded, placing a hand under Alexander's chin as he dabbed at the dried blood. Lafayette nudged Hercules' arm as Alexander's face grew redder with each of John's movements. After a few moments, John took the paper towel away. He carefully looked Alex over, making sure he hadn't missed any spots, hand still resting under his chin.

     "Thanks," Alex said to the best of his ability, though it came out as more of a squeak than he would have liked. John smiled just as the tea kettle began to whistle, and for a moment, Alex thought the sound was just in his head.

     Washington took the kettle and poured the hot water into several cups, each with a teabag neatly tied to the handle. He handed a cup to each of them, taking the last two before heading back into the living room. Alex looked into the tea to avoid John's eyes, and the suggestive glances of Lafayette and Hercules that he could feel boring into him.

     "So petit lion, since we have some time now, how about you tell us more about yourself?" Alex looked up,

     "What do you want to know?"

     "Anything, mon amis! Tell us something interesting!" Alex took a sip of the tea,

     "Alright. Well, I'm hoping to join the student government--"

     "You totally should!" John cut in, before quickly shutting his mouth. Hercules laughed,

     "I think that John meant to say that we're on student government, and it'd be really cool to have you join," Alex smiled,

     "I was afraid it was too late to join, but if I still can then I'm absolutely going to,"

     "Oh yes, and then you will get to meet Thomas," Lafayette added, eliciting groans from the other two, "Oh, he is not as bad as you say! He is stupid, but he can be nice!"

     "Thomas Jefferson?" Alex asked.

     "Yes, you know him?"

     "He's in my AP Gov class and he's the worst," he said calmly, as if stating a fact. Hercules and John immediately started laughing, but Lafayette simply looked concerned,

     "Has he been mean to you?" They seemed genuinely worried, but Alex shook his head,

     "No, he's just an annoying idiot who has no idea how a proper government should be run. It's kind of concerning that he's on student government, honestly," This only made Hercules and John laugh harder, as Lafayette reddened,

     "He is not that stupid..."

     "Laf is just defensive of him because they had a crush on him all last year!" Hercules cut in, through his laughter. Lafayette let out an indignant sound, embarrassment spreading across their face,

     "Hercules Mulligan, comment osez-vous allez raconter à Alexander mes écrase! Vous êtes insupportable parfois, d'ailleurs, vous savez que je suis épris de toi!--" Hercules stared in confusion as Alex snickered, catching the attention of Lafayette, who very quickly recalled their first interaction with Alex, which had involved Alex speaking perfect french. They reddened again, covering their mouth with both hands before speaking through them, "S'il vous plaît dites-moi que vous n'êtes pas _couramment_ le français," Alex grinned,

     "Je pourrais vous dire cela, mais ce ne serait pas vrai," Alex laughed, eliciting a groan from Lafayette. Hercules and John stared at each other for a moment before John blurted out,

     "Alex, you speak french?"

     "Yes, I grew up only speaking french,"

     "Oh that's...that's really cool," he said under his breath.

     "That is funny, John, you never thought it was cool that I speak french," Lafayette said, with a distinct lilt to their voice. John shot them a glare, but Alex quickly chimed in,

     "Well maybe John just thinks I'm cooler," he joked, unsure of how his joke would be received. To his relief, Lafayette stepped back in mock disbelief as Hercules quickly high-fived Alex. John shrugged, a smile spreading across his face,

     "He's right, Laf. He's way cooler than you," John draped an arm over Alexander's shoulders, and Alex grinned, heart nearly beating out of his chest until the shout came from the living room,

     "Alexander!" Alex shrank back into John's arm for a moment, before quickly standing,

     "Coming, sir!" He turned to the trio, "I really have to go this time. Can I, I mean, would you mind if I met up with you at school? I understand if you'd rather not talk again, I know I'm not the easiest person to get along with and that I can be annoying, but I promise that I would be an asset to your--"

     "Alex?" Hercules interrupted,

     "Yes?"

     "You don't need to audition to hang with us, man,"

     "Besides, we already love you, petit lion!" Lafayette added. Alex stood in shock, swallowing down a swell of emotion. John smiled,

     "As long as you wanna stick with us, you're not going anywhere," he pulled Alex into a quick hug, mindful of his freshly stitched stomach. Alex drew in a sharp breath at the sudden contact, very quickly losing the battle he had been fighting against tears. He would have hated himself for this, had he not been able to bury his face in John's shoulder in order to hide his face. He found himself grabbing onto John's shirt,

     "Thank you. Thank you so much. I'm sorry, just um...thank you," he pulled away the second he had his emotions somewhat under control, quickly grabbed his backpack, and rushed out if the room. Once in the living room, he stood by George Frederick, eyes downcast.

     "Alex, we're going. You've already kept me up this late, and I will not let you ruin mine or the Washington's night any further," he turned to Mr. and Mrs. Washington then, with a large smile, "Thank you both so much for your hospitality, you both seem like wonderful people! Goodbye, now!" He headed for the door, snapping for Alex to follow. Alex turned quickly to George and Martha,

     "Thank you for helping me," he said, rather quietly, before following Mr, Frederick out the door. Martha looked to George once the door had shut,

     "Something isn't right, there. George, we need to do something," George nodded as Lafayette and the boys crept in from the kitchen.

     "George? Martha?" Lafayette cut in, "We would like to help as well. He is our friend, we will try to figure out what is happening," Martha smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes,

     "We'll figure it out, Gilbert, don't you worry," the group stood in silence as thoughts, fears, and tension slowly filled the space between them.


	9. School (pt.1), Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter of excessive italics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but I'm doing my best to get these up as soon as possible, despite work and stuff. Same warnings apply (some homophobic language again in this chapter) !
> 
> French translations (via Google translate)  
>  A plus tard- See you later  
> Casse-toi- Fuck off

     Returning to school after all that had happened the previous night gave Alex the same feeling that one gets when waking up from a poorly timed nap. He felt utterly displaced as he headed to his locker, the faces of his fellow students blurring together as he passed, which he assumed was for the best, as he could still feel the stares that his bruised face garnered. He hadn't bothered trying to cover up the black eye, split lip, and other blooms of purple that littered his body, as it had seemed like a waste of his time. Besides, any bruises that he had received after leaving the Washington residence simply blended into the array of other injuries, so his usual cover-up routine was rendered useless.

     He unlocked his locker, grabbing several notebooks.

     "Well well, look what the cat dragged in! And I do mean dragged, man, what happened to your face? You look even worse than usual!" Thomas Jefferson's voice rang through Alexander's head, causing a near instant headache. He shut his locker and turned to face the taller boy,

     "Yes, I thought this might level the playing field. Now that I look like this, maybe you'll actually be able to find a date,"

     "Ohhh right, I forgot that you were just _flocked_ with girls before today," he plucked one of Alexander's notebooks off of the pile in his arms, flipping through the pages casually, "Or was it guys?" he teased.

     "It was _both_ , genius," he ripped the notebook out of Thomas' hands, and Thomas gasped dramatically,

     "Both?! But Al, you don't seem like the type! My my, if only I had known sooner, maybe we could have been an item! Oh wait. I don't date morons,"

     "I know it's hard for you, but do try your best to remember that my name is not to be shortened to less than four letters. And while you're at it, come up with some insults that surpass those used in grade school,"

     "Oh trust me, I could think of several four letter words to call you, you--"

     "Alexander!" Lafayette's voice gave only a mild warning before Alex found himself engulfed in an excitable hug. He clutched his books tightly for a moment, before processing that the hug was rather gentle in comparison to the amount of movement it involved, "You are here! We were wondering if you would take the day off!" Lafayette noticed Jefferson standing by with a confused expression, and gave him a brief smile. John and Hercules walked up moments later, catching the tail end of Lafayette's surprise attack.

     "Laf, you gotta give him some warning," John laughed, greeting Alex with a smile and completely ignoring Thomas, "How're you doing, Alex?"

     "I'm doing alright, thanks to you three," John nodded, and Hercules added,

     "We're going to keep an eye out for Adams and his group of cowards, so don't worry about them,"

     "Here," John said, tugging his phone out of his pocket and handing it over to Alex, "put your number in and I'll do the same with your phone, so we can reach each other if we need to," Alex did as he asked, handing over his phone to the trio after typing his number into John's phone, "Sweet, so we'll see you at lunch, right?"

     "Yeah, that would be nice," he smiled before the group dispersed in separate directions. Thomas, who was now standing a bit further down the hall, grabbed Lafayette's arm as they passed,

     "Hey, Lafayette, since when are you friends with Hamilton?" Lafayette frowned,

     "Since I discovered that he is a very nice and interesting person, Thomas. Although he tells me that you two have some sort of rivalry?" They crossed their arms pointedly, as if to challenge Thomas to come up with an explanation.

     "I mean yeah, how could I not argue with that kid? His ideas on politics, and everything else, are completely fucking crazy. Someone's got to put that kid in his place,"

     "Listen to me, Thomas," Lafayette jabbed a finger into the boy's chest, "I like you, but if you try to hurt him, I will make sure that you suffer," their voice digressed into a near-growl towards the end, and Thomas swallowed down his sudden spike of fear in exchange for another eye roll,

     "I don't _hate_ him, I just don't exactly _like_ him. I'm not gonna attack the guy. Well, not physically at least,"

     "Be. Nice. Or I will stop being so nice to you, and John and Hercules will back me up,"

     "Alright, alright. I'm not gonna antagonize your little friend any more than usual, relax," Lafayette nodded carefully, still frowning at Jefferson,

     "Very well. We will see you at the meeting after school. And by 'we', I mean Alexander as well. He wants to join the student government," Lafayette grinned at Jefferson's exaggerated groan, "Oh relax, you will learn to get along! A plus tard!"

* * *

 

     Lunch came along quickly, and Alex was actually grateful to relax for a few minutes. His black eye had formed a coalition with his cut to make his day as painful as possible, and the dull throb that traveled through the rest of his body wasn't doing much to help the situation. He chose an empty table, sat, and laid his head down on the surface. He heard people fill in around him at the table, but none of them spoke to him, so he continued to meditate on his injuries.

     After several peaceful moments, he finally lifted his head to find that John, Hercules, and Lafayette were the people that had joined him.

     "Oh, you're here!" The words tumbled out, "I would have said something, I didn't realize," John responded first,

     "Hey, don't worry about it, you look like you need the rest. How're you feeling?"

     "I'm fine," he said, almost instantaneously receiving three skeptical looks, "Ok I'm mostly fine," he said, but his revision did little to change the response of his friends, and he finally sighed and gave in, "Fine, I think my head is going to explode, my entire body feels sore and exhausted, and it feels like my stomach is on fire," Alex quickly reached into his bag and pulled out a notebook, "I'll be fine,"

     "Maybe you should go home, Alex," John offered, nudging Hercules to back him up.

     "Yeah dude, you need rest,"

     "What I need is to be in class. I'll be better soon, really. Besides, isn't there a student gov meeting after school? I can't miss that, I'm already behind," Alex continued to jot words down in the notebook, hand darting from line to line, despite his general air of lethargy. His movements were brought to an abrupt stop, however, when he heard John Adams' voice from a few tables over,

     "Hey immigrant, why're you still showing your face? I though we made it clear last night that you're not fucking welcome around here!" Alex grit his teeth,

     "On the contrary, Adams, I took last night as an initiation! In fact, I feel more welcome than ever!" He spit back, sure that this would anger Adams further, and ready to face the consequences as long as he got the reaction he wanted. Sure enough Adams stood fuming for several seconds, unsure of how to respond to the blatant lack of fear in Alexander's voice. Several students who had been eagerly looking on from Adams' table now simply stared as he fumbled for a response.

     "That's...that's big talk coming from you, runt!" He settled on, a proud smirk spreading across his face.

     "Make fun of my height all you want, but if you really want to compare size, Adams I'm sure I've got you beat," Alex quipped, much to the enjoyment of Laf, Hercules, John, and several others within earshot. Adams face took on a shade of red that Alex had a hard time placing, though he decided on something between crimson and scarlet. He watched as Adams stood, making his way closer to where Alex was seated. Alexander moved to stand up, ready to have a chance to prove himself against Adams, even if he wasn't at his best. However, before he could provoke him any further Hercules rose from his seat, getting up just a split second before John or Laf had the chance, and stood between them. Hercules crossed his arms across his chest, staring down at Adams, who was several inches shorter than him, and nowhere near as muscular,

     "You lookin' for a fight, Adams?" The shorter boy took a step back, eyes darting between Alexander and Hercules,

     "Oh, please. Step off, this doesn't involve you!" John suddenly interjected,

     "Adams, you're lucky we don't beat your ass for what you did to Alex! You lay a hand on him again and I'll rip it the fuck off your arm!"

     "This isn't your place!" He spat, "Let the little queer fight his own battles!" Herc immediately grabbed the front of Adams' shirt, voice nearing a growl,

     "I _know_ you didn't just say that in front of me. Wanna know how I know that?" Adams remained silent, his normally beady eyes nearly popping out of their sockets, "I know that because if you _had_ fucking said that, you'd be going home with your head shoved even further up your own ass than it normally is," Herc paused, as if awaiting a response. When he received nothing more than a whimper, he prompted the other boy, "So let's try that again. Did you have something to say to our friend?" Adams quickly shook his head, and Hercules released his shirt, making sure to shove him backwards in the process. Adams stood dumbfounded for several moments before Lafayette chimed in,

     "Then what the _fuck_ are you still doing here? Casse-toi!" And Adams swiftly headed back to his own table.

     Alex stared in disbelief for several moments before a grin spread across his face. John and Lafayette were already laughing and playfully jabbing Herc in the shoulder when Alex let out a sharp laugh. Hercules looked over and began to explain,

     "Hey man, I hope we didn't embarrass you or--"

     "Are you kidding?" Alex laughed, "That felt fucking incredible, I've never had anyone on my side like that before!" He felt another swell of happiness wash over him as he continued, "I promise I'll repay the favor, I won't let you down!"

     "Alex, there's no favor to repay, we're friends now, that's just what we do," John reminded him, picking up Alexander's infectious smile.

     Although he understood what John meant, the concept behind this still baffled Alexander. He knew that kindness came with punishment, and happiness came with consequences. But as he looked at the faces of his friends, he resigned himself to accept the consequences that came his way. This kind of joy was worth whatever was in store for him later on.


	10. More of the Same

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same warnings apply! (i.e.: mentions of abuse)  
> ______________________

     The moment that the final bell rang, Alex was out of his seat and heading to room 176, where student government was being held. He entered the room ready to introduce himself to whoever might be inside, but was greeted only by empty desks.

     Alex let out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

     He checked the text from John once more but, as he had thought, the text said room 176. As he stared in confusion at his phone screen, the door behind him opened, revealing a group of students. The girl at the head of the group walked in first,

     "You must be the kid John wouldn't shut up about," she smiled, eyes drifting past the bruises covering his face, "Though now I can see why. Alexander, isn't it? I'm Angelica. I hear you want to join student gov?"

     "Yes," he stuck his hand out with a grin, assuming she was the president of the group, "Alexander Hamilton. I hope I'll be able to satisfy any needs that the club may still have. That is, if you have a spot for me,"

     "We don't," Jefferson called out, heading to a desk in the front of the room, accompanied by a boy who Alex had never seen, "We're doing totally fine without you,"

     "Don't listen to him," another girl spoke up, "We can always add a new member,"

     "Alright, let me introduce you to everyone first," Angelica said, placing a hand on Alexander's shoulder, "Well I know you're already familiar with Lafayette, Hercules, and John--"

     "They're constantly late..." a boy in the back added quietly. Angelica smirked and continued, pointing to the boy with her other hand,

     "That's Aaron Burr, don't let him fool you, he gets along with everyone, he's very non-confrontational," Burr seemed pleased with this description, apparently taking it as a compliment, "Next we have Thomas Jefferson, who you seem to know, and James Madison. They're our tag team. Madison is the idea man, T.Jeff is the loudmouth," Angelica didn't pause to hear Jefferson's protests, simply speaking over him in a commanding voice, "Then we have my sisters, Eliza and Peggy," Two girls waved from the second row, "Eliza has amazing organizational skills and is sharp as a whip. Peggy--"

     "Doesn't want to be here," Peggy called out on cue, with a pointed look at her sister.

     "Peggy," Angelica continued, "keeps us on task, on budget, and on schedule. And I'm her ride, so she has to stay whether she likes it or not," Alex took in everything he had just been given, accounting for each person as he made a mental note of them. Within seconds, the door burst open again, this time spitting out Hercules, Lafayette, and John, the latter of whom immediately threw an arm around Alexander's shoulders,

     "Take a seat, man! It's showtime, time to get started!"

     "Is everyone ignoring the fact that all our positions are full?" Jefferson sighed. Angelica rolled her eyes,

     "Jefferson, we don't have positions and you fucking know it. Besides, if we did, you'd have lost yours by now," she turned to Alex, who was now surrounded by his trio of friends, "We work as a committee, taking on responsibilities based on who is best suited for it. So," she crossed her arms with a smile, "What are you good at?" Alex straightened his back, standing to the full extent of his 5'5" frame,

     "Everything," he said. He swallowed down his self doubt as several pairs of eyes rested on him, "but my specialties are writing and debating,"

     "Ooh, writing?" Thomas suddenly cut in, "Why don't we give him the school newsletter, Angie?" Alex was confused by his mocking tone,

     "I'd gladly take that. Which articles would I be in charge of?" A smug grin spread across Jefferson's face,

     "All of 'em. The newsletter has been dead for years, no one wants to touch it. The last kid who was put in charge of it became a laughing stock. And since that's the only open position, and you clearly wouldn't want that, I guess you'll have to leave the--"

     "I said I'll take it," Alex reaffirmed, crossing his arms. He saw John flip Jefferson off out of the corner of his eye, and felt a swell of pride. He considered the benefits of impressing John or Angelica, and his motivation spiked. Eliza spoke up again,

     "I think it would be a perfect fit, don't you Angelica?" Her sister nodded,

     "Alright, we'll give it a try. But you're going to need help writing the articles, you can't possibly do the whole thing by yourself," Alexander frowned,

     "I'll write what I can and find help if I need it," he answered honestly, although a bit curtly. Angelica raised an eyebrow, but shrugged and agreed. Jefferson reluctantly rifled through a few file cabinets at the back of the room until he found a manila folder full of clipping and notes. He passed them to Madison who, with a frown, placed them in Alexander's hands. Alex flipped open the folder and felt a cold wash of dread settle in his stomach.

* * *

 

     "It's a miracle anyone thought this thing was worth filing!" Alex lamented, pacing Lafayette's living room as his three friends looked on from the couch, "Look at this! Half of these notes are written on napkins and post-its! The "layout" is a pre-made Word template from 1997! Some of these papers have more coffee on them than ink!" He snapped the file folder shut and tossed it to John, who thumbed through it quickly,

     "That's why Jefferson gave this to you, Alex. No one can do anything with this shit. But he also doesn't know you," Alexander stood for several moments, eyes fixed on the folder in John's hands, fingers drumming at his side. Lafayette and Hercules exchanged patient glances as they sat in silence. After several moments, Alex lunged for his backpack, pulling out a notebook and a pen. He began a bulleted list entitled, "Steps to Make the Monthly Newsletter Bearable to the Masses".

     "So," he began, "I need this thing to be in high demand. This isn't just a matter of completing a job, I have to blow Jefferson out of the water. I need something attention-grabbing. Something with substance and passion that'll bring people in. It needs to be the talk of the school so that Jefferson won't be able to sit through any of his classes without hearing someone mention it," The others grinned, quickly spitting out ideas as fast as Alex could scrawl them down. Between his friends' sentences, he threw his own, solidifying half-formed thoughts as they poured from his mouth. By the time they had exhausted their resources, Alex had pages worth of material to condense into something coherent.

     His phone rang, abruptly cutting off his train of thought. He didn't look at it, he knew who it was.

     "I have to go," he interjected, and he could feel the energy in the room settle at an uncomfortable lull. He began packing up his things in order to distract himself from it.

     "Can't you stay for dinner? We're just gonna order pizza but uh..." John's voice trailed off as he watched Alexander's quick movements. His mind was clearly made up.

     "Yes petit lion," Lafayette added, picking up where John had dropped off, "we would like for you to stay!" Hercules nodded in encouragement, the trio waiting for a response. Alex shouldered his bag, grasping for an explanation that didn't involve the truth, but finding none,

     "I can't. He wanted me home before six thirty, and it's already quarter to seven. I have to go," the words nearly jumbled themselves as they fell from his mouth, not even gathering the momentum to speak his foster father's name before crashing to a halt.

     "What does he do if you're late?" John asked softly. The silence that followed was all but deafening.

     Alexander's hand tightened around the strap of his bag,

     "I have to go," he stated once more, a slight waver to his voice. John looked up nervously as Alex turned for the door. His eyes shot towards Hercules and Lafayette, both wearing expressions of shock, before he scrambled off the couch and lunged after Alex, grasping his hand. John found Alexander's eyes staring into his before he knew what his goal was. At the moment, grabbing onto Alex's hand had seemed like the only rational thing to do, but now that he was staring at him, he was at a loss. John watched as Alexander's eyes trailed down to their hands, still clasped together, before slowly meeting his eyes again. He was sure he noticed his friend's cheeks flush a shade of pink that they had not been previously. John stared for a second longer.

     "Text me. Uh, later, that is. Just let me know that you're ok. Ok?" He fumbled over the words, but Alex nodded nonetheless. John reluctantly let go of Alexander's hand as he watched him walk out the door. The sound of it closing resonated in his ribcage.

* * *

     John stood with Hercules and Lafayette by Alex's locker. His fingers drummed on his thigh nervously as his eyes scanned the hallway, searching for their friend.

     "I'm sure he's fine, man. He's pretty tough," Hercules said, breaking the tension that had been building. Lafayette patted his arm, but John merely shrugged them off,

     "I know...I know he's probably 'fine' now, but that doesn't mean that he didn't get beaten or screamed at or degraded last night. I just want to see him...I wanna make sure he's okay,"

     "We understand," Lafayette responded, "We want the same thing," As if on cue, John spotted Alex heading down the hall. The trio rushed to meet him, John pulling him into a hug,

     "You never texted last night, are you alright? Do you need anything? What'd he do to you? I'm gonna fucking kill him..." John mumbled, arms securely around him.

     "It's okay. I'm okay. I'm sorry I didn't text you," his voice was quiet as he spoke, "Are you angry?"

    "Angry?! Of course I'm not angry, Alex, and you don't have to apologize, We're all just glad you're okay!" John took half a step back, breaking the hug and placing his hands on Alexander's shoulders, "Are you hurt? Here--" he carefully checked his face for any new bruises as Alex's eyes stayed downcast. His eyes travelled over the rest of his friend, searching for anything out of the ordinary and landing on a bit of his neck that wasn't covered by his sweater. John gently tugged at the collar, getting a better view of a ring of bruises before quickly letting go. Alexander simply tugged at the fabric of John's sweatshirt, fiddling with it to distract himself. This, however, also allowed the trio to spot the similar rings of bruises on his wrists.

     John pulled Alex in for another hug, feeling his friend's grip on his sweatshirt tighten as he allowed himself to rest his head on John's shoulder. John could feel the anger in his stomach boiling.

     "Hey Alex, you wanna skip out today? Take a break?" Hercules offered, but Alex shook his head,

     "I've got a lot to do. And I need to finish the newsletter. And there was that essay contest that I need to start on. Plus I have--"

     "You need to rest, Alexander," Lafayette interrupted. Alex still avoided eye contact,

     "No, I need to stay. If he were to find out that I didn't go to school then tonight would turn out even worse than he warned. Can we uh...stop talking about that though?" John took a breath,

     "Yeah, Alex, we can stop talking about it," he shifted to put his arm around Alex as they walked to class, his mind searching for a way to ensure that Alex would never have to feel this way again.


	11. It Must Get Worst, Before It Gets Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but leading up to a lot. Thanks for readon!
> 
> ***Same warnings apply, in particular: mentions/depictions of abuse***  
> ___________________________

      By the end of the day, Alexander was better, but still not himself. Despite their many attempts to help him relax, his laughter was reserved at best, and his lack of enthusiasm was concerning. In a last-ditch effort, Lafayette caught his attention while passing in the hallway, pulling him aside,

     "I have just spoken to John and Hercules and they are both staying the night at my house! Will you be able to join us, Alexander?" Alex gave a half-hearted smile,

     "That sounds great Laf, but I have to be home, or else um...well, I have to be home," Lafayette's excitement faded at the answer that they expected, but they refused to let Alexander see this, for fear that he would think they were disappointed in him.

     "Ah yes, well maybe next time, mm?" They patted Alex's arm carefully before parting ways and heading towards P.E. which they thankfully had with Hercules and John. They stopped at the nurse's office, changing there in order to avoid choosing a gendered locker room, and continued on their way, entering the gym to find their friends waiting eagerly by the locker room door,

     "What'd he say?" Hercules immediately prompted, but Lafayette simply shook their head,

     "He cannot come, mes amies," they saw John's stature deflate, which, despite the gravity of the situation they were all facing, brought a slight curve to the corner of Lafayette's mouth, "I am sorry you will not get your chance at wooing Alexander tonight, John," John turned bright red, letting out an indignant scoff,

     "Dude he's our friend,"

     "Yeah, until you woo him," Hercules cut in.

     "I'm just worried about him!" John insisted, shoving his hands in his pockets. Lafayette glanced at Hercules, and his tone softened,

     "Man, you know we're just bustin' your ass. If you actually like him, you should go for it. I bet he feels the same,"

     "Yes, John! You should ask our petit lion on a date if you like him!"

     "Yeah, you know he'd go for it! No one can resist those freckles," Hercules added with a nudge. John huffed out a laugh, shaking his head,

     "Right, sure," his smile faded, "but I'm not gonna do that to him. The last thing he needs right now is something else to worry about. If he says yes, then he'd have the stress of a relationship hanging over him. If he says no, then he'd be worrying about how that could fuck with our friendship," he let out a breath, "He doesn't need a date right now, he needs friends. He needs the three of us, right?"

     Hercules nodded, but Lafayette simply grinned,

     "So...this means that you do like Alexander, no?"

     "Hey Laf?"

     "Yes?"

     "Shut the fuck up," Lafayette and Herc grinned at each other, Lafayette nearly bursting with excitement. They pulled John into a hug,

     "Oh we knew it! You are not very good at hiding these things, you know! And we never thought you would find a person shorter than you, mon amis! And remember when he called you Prince Charming? You two are meant to be! What do you like about him the most? Have you written a song about him like you did that one time with the boy from summer camp?" John simply groaned, face turning red,

     "Laf, I gotta go change for class, we're gonna be late,"

     "You know we're not lettin' this go, man. We're gonna be questioning you all night,"

 

* * *

 

     John found that Hercules wasn't lying. His friends did in fact plan on interrogating him about his crush for the entirety of the night.

     He prayed that George and Martha couldn't hear them as he cited everything from Alex's fiery wit to his dark brown eyes as reason for his infatuation. He was in the midst of his rant when Lafayette cut in,

     "So you are going to ask him to the prom, yes?" John snorted, shaking his head,

     "Laf, he doesn't even know I like him, I'm not gonna throw that shit on him out of no where,"

     "You'd get to dance with him, though. And in a suit, man," Hercules pointed out, making John's stomach knot up. Lafayette added on,

     "And do you not think he would look very handsome in a suit, John?"

     "Dude, I swear--" John began, but his protest was cut short by the buzz of his phone. He glanced down to see an incoming call from Alex.

     "He said he wasn't coming tonight, right? What do you think he's calling for?" Hercules asked, following John's gaze. John simply shrugged, wondering the same thing. He tapped the screen, accepting the call, "Hey man, what's up?" John spoke, though he heard only muffled rustling on the other end, "Uh, Alex...?" A distant voice growled out mid sentence,

     "--worthless, brainless waste of my time!" and John felt a jab of fear run down his spine. He heard Alexander speak next, his voice sounding much closer,

     "I know I should have been home earlier yesterday, I should have--"

     "BUT YOU WEREN'T," the first voice shouted, followed by a loud crash. John swallowed hard, setting his phone to speaker as Hercules and Lafayette looked on in confusion. Their expressions quickly melted into terror as they experienced the exchange along with John. The first voice, who they now recognized as George Frederick, continued, "You are mine, you BELONG to _ME_. You are to do what I say, WITHOUT QUESTION. Do you think you can get that through your thick skull? Do you need a translation, you filthy, idiotic little--" the sounds of a struggle muffled the end of the verbal attack, and Alex's voice came through once again,

     "Please, _please_ , NO, I promise I'll--" a muffled sound, then a yelp, and more begging, bargaining, pleading... The three friends stared at the phone, paralyzed as they listened to the violence unfold. Without Alexander's address they were all but useless to him, a third party with no influence over the matter, and the realization of this only furthered the fear that they felt.

     Through the commotion, they could hear only fragments of the taunting abuse that Frederick slung at Alex, for which they were grateful. The sound cut off abruptly after several excruciating minutes, going almost entirely silent, with only the pounding of frantic footsteps, shuffling, and panting to tell them that the call had not been dropped. The trio waited, bodies tense, lungs burning.

     A door shut, blocking out distant shouting.

     More panting, and the sound of rain.

     A voice.

     "John...?" It was quiet and shaky, but it was no doubt Alexander's. John fumbled to grab the phone, hands trembling. He clicked off speaker and placed the phone to his ear, His voice coming frantically, through tears,

     "Alexander?! Alexander what's going on?! Where are you, are you ok?! We'll come and get you, where are you?!" A few gasping breaths came through, as if he had been running,

     "He kicked me out. I need," he paused to take several deep breaths, "I need you to ask if I can stay the night," it took John a moment to understand, but when he did, he responded without pausing to ask Lafayette, as he knew what they would say,

     "Of course you can, Alex, of course! Where are you, we're coming to pick you up--"

     "No I..." His voice seemed thick, "I want to walk. Please,"

     "Alex it's dark! It's raining, you're hurt--!"

     "I'll see you soon, John. Thank you," he mumbled, ending the call. John placed his phone on the floor of Lafayette's room, hands still shaking. The other two looked ok, waiting for John to explain the conversation he had just finished.

     "H-he's coming. Alex is coming over." He said simply, not being able to muster much else. Hercules quickly pulled John and Lafayette towards himself, wrapping his arms around both of them as tightly as he could.

 


	12. Thawing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same warnings apply, thanks for reading!  
> ________________________

     Minutes that seemed like hours passed before they heard a careful knock at the door. Without a moment's hesitation, the trio bolted out of Lafayette's room and towards the front door. John ripped it open, revealing a wet and exhausted-looking Alexander Hamilton.

     John lunged forward onto the stoop, throwing his arms around Alex. He was immediately followed by Lafayette and Hercules, completely encircling their drenched friend. Despite his best efforts, Alexander could not stop himself from trembling

     "Is...everything alright?" Martha's voice came, George's following just a second behind hers, but just as gentle,

     "Is that Alex? Come in, all of you. Let's get you dried off, son," Alex looked up from the huddle, too drained to argue against Mr. Washington's phrasing, and nodded,

     "Yes sir, thank you sir,"

     The group reluctantly untangled themselves, staying close as they headed inside. George took Alex's wet coat and backpack, replacing them with a wool blanket from the couch. Alex briefly considered taking John's hand, before thinking better of it and fiddling with the edges of the blanket instead. Martha led them to the kitchen table, while George headed to the sink, filling a kettle with water. The four sat down in silence. Not a sound was made until George returned with a mug of tea for everyone. He glanced at Martha, who nodded in return, and began carefully,

     "Sweetie, would you like to tell us what happened?" Alex grasped his mug, warming his hands on the smooth ceramic. Blood dripped from his split lip onto the polished wood of the table. He mopped it up with his shirt sleeve, fearful of being reprimanded for bleeding so carelessly. His mind drifted back to moments earlier,

     "No Ma'am, I wouldn't," he stared at the red marks around his wrists, peaking out from his sleeves, and his hands tightened around the mug, "Sorry, I'm sorry..."

     "No, no dear, there's no need to apologize," Martha reassured him, "But Alexander, we need to know what's been happening so that we can help you," John glanced over his friend, looking for new injuries, though they now seemed to blend together. His breath hitched as he realized this, though he kept his composure for Alexander's sake.

     Several seconds of silence passed, and Alex assumed that the conversation would move on, as it had several nights prior in the same household. Instead, George spoke,

     "Alex, we can help you, but only if you allow us to. You don't have to stay in that house,"

     "I won't go back to the orphanage," he mumbled, another drop of blood falling from his mouth, "I told myself I wouldn't," George stood, and Alex jerked back in his seat, anticipating George's reaction to his defiance. Washington, however, went and retrieved a towel from the counter, bringing it back and crouching next to Alexander's chair. Alex sat, frozen in place. He debated on whether he should shut his eyes or not.

     Washington pressed the cloth gently against Alex's split lip, patting his shoulder and encouraging him to take it. Alex took a shallow breath, placing his hand on the towel as Washington returned to his seat,

     "If I could assure you that you wouldn't have to return to the orphanage, would you be willing to report what happened, Alex?" He contemplated this. It seemed ideal, too good to be true. If not the orphanage, then where? If not George Frederick, then who? If not this, then what? He pushed the towel harder against his lip, focusing on the dull throb that poured through his body, letting it drown out his thoughts,

     "How is that possible?" He asked, skepticism lacing his voice.

     "I know a few people that may be able to make an exception for us. I'll talk to them and see what we can do. If all goes well, Martha and I would be more than happy to have you stay here," George said, taking Martha's hand as he spoke. Lafayette lay a hand on Alex's arm, offering a smile,

     "George knows many people, petit lion, and they trust him, as he is a senator after all, so we--" Alex's head snapped up,

     "Wait hold up," Alex stared at George for a moment, the connection finally clicking. He mentally berated himself for not having recognized him earlier. He chalked it up to having been in a state of pain and shock during each encounter with him, but still could not believe his level of obliviousness, "George Washington. As in, the actual George Washington. It is you," he cursed under his breath, bringing himself to his feet as quickly as he could manage and sticking his hand out, "I'm so sorry sir, I should have realized sooner. I greatly admire the work you've done and--"

     "Son, sit down, please," George urged gently, and Alex reluctantly obeyed with a flustered mumble of,

     "I'm not your son..." This time sounding almost wistful. He stared down at his lap, wanting nothing more than to shrink away into the chair he sat on. Having burdened anyone was unthinkable to him, but understanding that he had wasted the time and attention of Senator and Doctor Washington, two people that he greatly admired, made him think he deserved what had happened to him after all.

     "So how does that sound, Alex? If we can assure you that you won't have to stay in the orphanage, will you make the report?" Martha asked, bringing them back on topic. John met Alexander's eyes, giving him an encouraging nod, and Alex followed suit, saying yes before he knew if he meant it. Martha smiled, though her eyes still seemed sad, "We're very proud of you, Alex, I know this must be hard but we'll be here to help you, alright? For now let's get you set up for the night. The boys and Gilbert are up in their room, so you can stay with them, or if you'd like some space to yourself we can set you up in the guest room,"

     "I'd like to be with them, if that's okay, ma'am,"

     "Of course it is, dear. I'm sure we have an extra sleeping bag and pillow in Gilbert's closet that you can use," Alex nodded and allowed his friends to lead him to Lafayette's room. He tugged the blanket closer around his shoulders as Lafayette shuffled through their closet in an uncharacteristically quiet manner. Alex took a breath,

     "I'm sorry I called," he said, replaying the moments in his head. The fear flooded back into his chest and he continued speaking, unable to stop himself, "I thought he might kill me. I wasn't sure. I'd almost prefer that he had...but either way I wanted to make sure there was some sort of record if it had gone in that direction. I shouldn't have put that responsibility on you, but I didn't know who else to call. It was idiotic of me,"

     John felt a sharp tug in his gut as he recognized the word he had heard over the phone moments earlier. He tugged Alex into a hug,

     "Alex there was nothing idiotic about what you did. There's nothing idiotic about you, period. I dunno what we'd do if he'd--if you--" John bit back tears as he considered a very different outcome to the situation Alex had found himself in. His arms tightened around his friend.

     Alex hesitated for a moment before returning the gesture, burying his head in the crook of John's neck and feeling a hot sting in his eyes, which he felt the need to contain. He could feel John shaking, and gently rubbed his back in an attempt to comfort him, but John pulled away, holding him at arm's length with tears in his eyes,

     "No, you don't need to do that," John wiped his eyes quickly, "You're not supposed be be making me feel better, Alex. You need to talk, or cry, or--or whatever you need!" John felt his face getting hot as Alexander's eyes fell on his, wide and deep. He glanced towards Lafayette and Hercules, who were busy setting up a sleeping bag, as well as the bed, all while clearly listening in on their conversation.

     Alex wasn't sure where to go from there. He wanted to cry, sure, but not in front of his friends. Not in front of John. He needed to reassure them that he was okay, even if that wasn't fully true. He shifted forward as John dropped his arms, curling himself into John's lap and resting his head against his chest. Alex shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and buried his panic deeper in his stomach.

     When he opened his eyes again, Lafayette and Herc were sitting beside them,

     "Hey, so uh, just give us the word and we'll fuck him up, Alex," Hercules said. His voice wavered in an attempt to be lighthearted, but his expression gave away his honesty. Alexander offered a smile, but it didn't go past the surface. Lafayette adjusted the blanket that had slipped from his shoulder,

     "Petit lion, you should be getting some sleep," their voice was quiet and understanding, and Alex nodded once before pulling himself out of John's lap and into a standing position, "You will take the bed, I uh..." they looked to Hercules, gesturing slightly with their hand.

     "Insist," Herc provided in a whisper.

     "I insist," Lafayette said, finishing their earlier thought.

     Under normal circumstances, Alex would have argued that he'd be just fine on the floor, but at the moment he found that the bed was too enticing, and he hadn't the energy to argue anyway. He sat on the edge of the bed, tugging off his shoes before shimmying his legs under the covers. He sat with his hands in his lap as the others prepared spots on the floor.

     John headed over to the light switch when he was sure he heard Alex make a sound. He turned to see him sitting upright, eyes downcast and wet, damp hair falling out of his ponytail. He left the switch and returned to his friend's side, sitting next to him and speaking in hushed tones,

     "Alexander? Please be honest, would you like to have people near you right now, or would you rather be left alone?" Alex ran a palm over his eyes in an attempt to keep his tears in place. He did not trust his voice to be steady, so instead, he pulled John into a hug, shaking and trying to take a breath that was deeper than a gasp.

     John returned the hug, nodding to Hercules and Lafayette to come over as well. Together, they piled into the bed, creating a mound of warmth with Alexander at its center. Alex felt a pang of embarrassment that slowly faded at the apparent comfort of the others at being in such close quarters. He closed his eyes and attempted to calm himself enough to fall asleep and, as if on cue, John threw an arm over Alexander's chest, pulling himself closer and pushing his rather cold nose into Alex's neck.

     Alex let out a breath and let go of his thoughts. He was asleep within moments, feeling just about as at peace as he could.


	13. A Loss for Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short "end of finals week" chapter! Same warnings apply, and as always, thanks for reading!  
> __________________________________________

     The following week passed by at a crawl, and Alexander felt desperate to keep up. He threw himself into work, both at the coffee shop as well as at school, in order to fill the days, and the student gov newsletter filled the hours of the early morning when he struggled to sleep. He felt fragile, and this was a feeling that he did not enjoy. Every loud noise sent his heart racing, his voice trembled in class, if he spoke at all, and he tried his hardest to exist without being seen. He could feel tears prickling at his eyes at any minor altercation, and it took everything he had not to break down at every turn. It hadn't even been a full week and he was already doubting his ability to live with this altered form of himself.

     As he tapped away at the keys of his laptop, Alex thought back a few days to the meeting he'd had with a social worker from the orphanage. The Washington's had, of course, come with him, and were nothing but supportive. The social worker listened to what he had to say before consulting with the Washington's in private briefly and approving their temporary housing of Alexander. From there, he was told, an investigation would be opened in order to determine the validity of Alexander's claims about George Frederick. So once again, Alex found himself without a home that would withstand the foreseeable future. Despite the kindness of the Washington family, he knew that his stay with them would be a kindness with a time limit, and that he would soon be back to square one. In his spare time, he looked up shelters where he might be able to stay, and tried not to think about leaving his friends behind.

* * *

 

     Within the week, he had completed the newsletter. He had even taken it upon himself to get it approved by the vice principal and have it sent to the copy room. This had turned out to be much more difficult than he had anticipated however, as the man in the office initially refused to fill the abnormally large request. After more than a bit of persuading, Alex was able to convince him to make the copies, and after a night of stapling, he had the newsletters prepared and ready for their next meeting. With the help of John, Lafayette, and Hercules, he brought the boxes to their student gov meeting the next day.

     At the sight of the boxes being plopped onto the table, Angelica's look of confusion became one of disbelief. She pried one open, pulling out one of the newsletters. The others followed suit, flipping through the stacks of paper and mumbling to each other about the leaflets. Jefferson, of course, spoke first,

     "Uh, what the hell are you tryin' to pull?" John saw Alexander's shoulders tense up and cut in,

     "Yo man, these look great!" He laid a hand on Alex's arm, causing him to turn slightly, catching his eye, "Seriously, I can't believe you did this by yourself, that's insane!"

     "We told you to do a newsletter," Jefferson piped up again, rolling his eyes and waving his copy around in annoyance, "this ain't a newsletter,"

     "Shut up, dumbass," John began, only to be cut off by Burr,

     "He's right, technically. A newsletter isn't typically so...expansive. Maybe cut down next time, Alexander. This is a bit extreme," a mumble of agreement came from Madison, and Alex felt cold. He had made a mistake. He had done something wrong. He had messed up.

     "Yeah, it's a newspaper now, idiots, and that's clearly better. Besides," John said, stepping up next to Alex, "he actually wrote about stuff that will interest people, not that boring shit you guys wanted him to write about," Angelica looked up from the paper, catching the tension in Alexander's body and the flush of red pouring over his face,

     "John's right, it's better than we expected, and we can make this our new monthly publication! Are you up for that, Alex?" Alexander glanced up from his shoes,

     "Hm..? Oh, oh yes. Yes, I can do that," Eliza watched him curiously from across the room, making eye contact with Hercules, who simply shook his head very slightly.

     "Great, then let's get these around the school for tomorrow!" Angelica prompted, doling out stacks of newspaper for each person. They all drifted out into the hallway, heading off in different directions to place the papers throughout the school. Jefferson peeled off to follow Alexander,

     "Hey Al," he called, frowning when he was ignored, "Allie-boy. Short stack. Loud mouth," he tore off a page from the paper, crumpling it up at tossing it at the back of Alexander's head, "You-hoo, airhead! I'm tryin' to ask you something," he tossed another wad of paper, "Yo, why do you have to be such an overachiever, shrimp? You know it just makes you look bad, right?" He snickered to himself as he slowly gained on Alex, "I bet everyone's just throwing these out, probably laughin' at you, right Al--?" As he caught up, he saw the tears gathering in Alexander's eyes, "Whoa...uh...hey are you um,"

     "Just fuck off," he mumbled, quickening his pace to little avail.

     "Hey, yo, Alex! Hey...uh I was just y'know, messin' with you. I mean the paper is dumb and all but...you're not usually a crybaby about it,"

     "Sorry," Thomas walked in silence for a few moments, trying to figure out what to do from here. He stuffed his pile of newspapers under one arm and stopped Alex, causing him to flinch away quickly, backing against the row of lockers. Thomas looked on in surprise before slowly reaching out and taking Alexander's stack of papers,

     "Jeez uh...relax, man," he mumbled uncomfortably, adding the papers to his own pile. Alex looked up in a mix of fear and confusion and Jefferson grimaced, "Yeah, there's no use antagonizing you when you're actin' all weird like this. You're like...crying and look all tired and shit. Go hang out with your annoying-ass boyfriend or something. I'll just...throw these in a dumpster or whatever,"

     Alex felt his heart rate slowly return to normal as he watched Jefferson grumble on. He carefully put his hand out, which Jefferson simply looked at suspiciously,

     "I um...thanks. I still u-um, hate you though. This doesn't change anything, right...?"

     "Hell no, shrimp," he said, ignoring Alexander's hand. At that moment John came around the corner, "Hey, Laurens! Your boy toy's pissing me off again, you might wanna get over here and shut 'im up," Alex reddened as John rushed over,

     "I'm not--we're not--" he said in a whisper,

     "Yeah, yeah, whatever, keep tellin' yourself that," John stopped in front of Jefferson, jaw clenched,

     "You better not have--"

     "Relax Johnny, I didn't lay a finger on him and I think he's used to the short jokes by now. You wanna just get him off my case before we have a problem?" John took hold of the cuff of Alexander's sleeve, leading him away,

     "Hey, you ok?" John asked, pulling him aside one Jefferson was out of earshot, "Did he hurt you? Did he say something?" He placed his hands gently on Alexander's shoulders, carefully looking him over and checking for new injuries.

     "He didn't do anything John he...was actually nice to me. I think? But I--I had a breakdown, John. Just because he said some shit to me a-and touched my arm and I can't deal with this! I hate being like this, I hate feeling like anytime I talk I'm going to get yelled at or hit or--" he grabbed the front of John's shirt, staring down at the floor as he bit back more tears, "I hate inconveniencing everyone and being annoying and fragile and this! I hate fucking crying at every fucking thing!"

     "Alex?" John said quietly, receiving just a sound in response, "Can I hug you?" Alex nodded and John all but tackled him against the locker bank, "Alex, you're not going to feel like this forever, ok? I'm gonna make sure of it. I know you don't like feeling this way, but you have to know that it's ok to. We're here for you, for whatever you need. You're not annoying, and you're not an inconvenience. You're our friend. We love you, Alex. And if anyone does call you an annoyance, I'll back you up when you destroy them. Or tell me and if you're not feelin' up to it, then I'll destroy them for you," John added nonchalantly. Alex let out a laugh, head buried in John's shoulder,

     "I just feel so stupid. This isn't what I'm like but I just can't avoid it..."

     "You don't have to avoid it, you have to recover. You need time, Alex,"

     "Yeah, I don't exactly have that..."

     "Then I'll give you some of mine," John smirked, pulling Alex in closer and meaning every word.


End file.
